"Don't you dare!" Alexa said sternly, but she knew Savannah wouldn't do that. She had been reasonable all her life. And she was being reasonable now too, even if it was a hard situation for her. "I'd better go pack now. I'll see you later, sweetheart."

Tom called her ten minutes later, and said he had gotten them on a six o'clock flight that would land in Charleston at eight-thirty, and they were leaving Vermont right then. He hoped to be at JFK by four or five.

"I'll be there at four with her bags. Call me on my cell phone when you get to the airport." She gave him the number, which he had never had before. All he had was her e-mail, but they had to work together now. "I'll be at the United terminal."

"I'll try to get there as soon as I can, so you have a little time together. She's pretty upset." He could hear that Alexa was too. But none of them were half as upset as Luisa when he called and told her the news.

"Are you crazy? You're bringing her here? here? You can't do that. Daisy doesn't know that she exists." Daisy was the ten-year-old daughter she had conceived to break up his marriage to Alexa and get him back. She hadn't given a d.a.m.n about their boys during his marriage to Alexa-she had abandoned them for eight years. She had left him for an oil tyc.o.o.n in Texas, and left the boys with their father, but as soon as her new husband died, she came running back. She had used a baby to get him, and he had stupidly fallen into her trap. He had bitterly regretted it in the years since. But it was too late to do anything about it now. All he could do was try to make it up to Alexa by taking care of Savannah. He owed her at least that-Savannah was his child too. You can't do that. Daisy doesn't know that she exists." Daisy was the ten-year-old daughter she had conceived to break up his marriage to Alexa and get him back. She hadn't given a d.a.m.n about their boys during his marriage to Alexa-she had abandoned them for eight years. She had left him for an oil tyc.o.o.n in Texas, and left the boys with their father, but as soon as her new husband died, she came running back. She had used a baby to get him, and he had stupidly fallen into her trap. He had bitterly regretted it in the years since. But it was too late to do anything about it now. All he could do was try to make it up to Alexa by taking care of Savannah. He owed her at least that-Savannah was his child too.

"Well, you'd better tell her," Tom told Luisa coldly, referring to Daisy's not knowing she had a sister and that her father had been married to someone else. "We'll be home tonight, and I'm not going to have Savannah pretend to be someone else. This is hard enough on her as it is."

"Hard on her? her? What about me and Daisy? Did you think about that? Or have you been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with her mother? Is that what this is about?" What about me and Daisy? Did you think about that? Or have you been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with her mother? Is that what this is about?"

"I just saw Alexa for the first time in ten years. Our daughter's life is at risk here. I'm bringing her home, Luisa, like it or not."

"You sonofab.i.t.c.h. I always knew you'd go back to Alexa someday." She knew Tom didn't love her. It didn't matter to Luisa. She had wanted her old life back, and him, when it was convenient for her. It was always and only about her.

"She wouldn't go near me with a ten-foot pole, and she's absolutely right," he said about Alexa. "I screwed her over ten years ago. The only reason she's talking to me now is because she needs someplace to send Savannah. Someone is threatening our daughter. Probably related to the case her mother is working on. I have have to bring Savannah home. Her life may be on the line." It made him sick that he even needed to argue with her about it. Luisa didn't have a drop of human kindness in her, or compa.s.sion. She would never have done what Alexa had for her boys. It was ironic that now Luisa was in the position of having to take care of Alexa's child. Alexa had done it for Luisa for seven years. to bring Savannah home. Her life may be on the line." It made him sick that he even needed to argue with her about it. Luisa didn't have a drop of human kindness in her, or compa.s.sion. She would never have done what Alexa had for her boys. It was ironic that now Luisa was in the position of having to take care of Alexa's child. Alexa had done it for Luisa for seven years.

"Well, don't expect me to do anything for her," Luisa said in a fury.

"I expect you to be civil to her, and make her as comfortable as we can."

"Is her mother coming to see her?" Luisa sounded suspicious.

"Probably. I haven't talked to her about it yet. I've only known about this for half an hour. She got another threatening letter about Savannah last night."

"Just keep her away from me, Tom. And I mean it. Keep her out of my sight." He loathed everything Luisa was and stood for. His punishment for what he had done to Alexa was living with Luisa now. It had been a long, hard ten years. But he didn't have the energy, or the guts, to get divorced again. So he had made his peace with it. At a very, very high price.

He and Savannah left the hotel in Vermont a few minutes later, and Savannah was silent and looked sadly out the window for most of the drive down. He tried to tell her how much she would like Charleston and how happy he was that she'd be there with him, but Savannah clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, and after a while he stopped talking and left her to her own thoughts. She was already homesick for New York, her mother, and her friends.

Alexa spent most of the day packing. She packed all the clothes Savannah liked best, everything she'd need for school and on the weekends. She gave her all the things Savannah coveted from her own wardrobe. She packed her schoolbooks, her favorite music, and two teddy bears she hadn't even looked at since she was a child, but Alexa thought they might comfort her now. And if she could have, Alexa would have packed herself in the suitcase. She hated to see her leave, but they had no other choice.

Alexa called her mother and told her what had happened, and that Tom had been decent about it. Whatever she thought of him, she had to give him credit for that.

She barely had time to dress and leave for the airport. She had three good-sized valises with her and got there at four o'clock. Half an hour later Tom called her on her cell phone. He was ten minutes away, and as soon as he drove up, Savannah jumped out of the car and flew into her mother's arms. She was sobbing, and it took her most of the time they had together to calm down. Alexa gently smoothed her hair that looked so much like her own, she held her and comforted her, and promised her she'd come to Charleston in no time, and before Savannah knew it she'd be home. Alexa barely had time to talk to Tom. He watched them unhappily, and walked away discreetly, so they could be alone. And then it was time to go. He had bought Savannah's ticket, and Alexa insisted on paying for the excess baggage, and they both cried when Alexa had to leave. Alexa couldn't walk them to the gate since she didn't have a ticket herself.

"I love you," she said over and over, and Savannah clung to her like a child. Tom finally put an arm around his daughter, and gently led her away from her mother as both women cried.

"Take care of yourself," he said over Savannah's head to Alexa. "I'll take good care of her, I promise. Just see that you stay safe." Alexa nodded and thanked him, and then they were gone, through security and heading for the gate, and Alexa couldn't see them anymore.

She was still crying when she hailed a cab to take her back to the city, and she was exhausted when she walked into the apartment and called her mother. The plainclothesman Jack had promised was posted outside her door.

"How did it go?" Muriel asked her. She sounded worried and had thought about them all afternoon.

"It was awful. But Tom was very nice. I'm going to try and go down there next week," Alexa said sadly. She couldn't even imagine her life without Savannah for the next few months. And in the fall she was leaving for college. Life as they had known it was about to end, or just had.

"I'll call her tonight," Muriel said somberly. She hated what was happening to them, and what the trial had done to their lives. "Do you want to come over for dinner?" her mother asked her kindly, but Alexa wasn't up to it. Seeing Savannah cry at the airport had been too hard.

"No. I just want to crawl into my bed and cry."

"I feel terrible about this. Maybe I was wrong to tell you to send her to Charleston. But I think it's better to be safe. Come over and have dinner anytime you want." She knew how lonely Alexa was going to be without her daughter.

"Thanks, Mom," Alexa said miserably. And after they hung up, she did just what she had said she would. She climbed into her bed, pulled up the covers, and cried.

Chapter 7.

The flight to Charleston took just over two hours. Savannah sat quietly in her seat, looking out the window, with tears rolling down her cheeks, and dozed off in the last few minutes. The shock of leaving home so suddenly had worn her out, and the emotions of leaving her mother had been overwhelming. Neither of them had expected this as a consequence of Alexa handling the trial. Tom watched her as she slept, and gently covered her with a blanket. He was well aware that his minimal presence in her life, and defection a decade before, had strengthened the bond with her mother to an unusual degree. Alexa was all Savannah had, and now suddenly she was being catapulted into a new world, without her. Worse yet, it was a world and life where she was not welcome, and was viewed as a threat. He was worried about Luisa, and with good reason. She wasn't known for her kindness, warmth, and compa.s.sion, and he knew that bringing Savannah home with him was going to start a raging battle. It already had. Luisa had declared war on him that morning, and she meant it. And knowing her, the worst was yet to come.

They landed in Charleston with a sharp b.u.mp on the runway, which woke Savannah up, and she looked at her father in surprise. For a moment, she had forgotten who she was with and where she was going. It came back to her in a rush when she saw his face.

"We're here, baby. I'm glad you slept for a little while. You needed it." She nodded, turned her phone back on, and saw a text message from her mother that said only, "I love you. See you soon." And Tom suddenly sounded even more southern than he had before. He was home. And Savannah was far, far from hers, and felt like a lost soul.

She followed her father off the plane, and they got their luggage, her three big bags, and her father's small one and his skis. Her mother had taken her skis home. A porter followed them outside with their bags on a trolley, and her father hailed a cab. She settled in beside him, and looked around as they drove home. She had heard her father give his address in Mt. Pleasant, the part of Charleston where he lived.

"Do you remember anything about Charleston from when you lived here?" Tom asked her gently, and Savannah shook her head, her eyes wide. She looked beautiful as she sat there, still wearing ski pants and a heavy sweater, and carrying her parka. Her hair hung down her back like spun gold, and her eyes were the color of cornflowers, a rich, vibrant blue. She looked exactly like her mother when he had met her, and he knew Luisa would see it too. Savannah was only four years younger than Alexa had been when he fell in love with her, after Luisa had abandoned him and the boys for someone else. He had been devastated then, and had found happiness he'd never dared to dream of with Alexa. And seven years later, he had been a total fool when Luisa returned and spun her web. When he thought of it now, as he did often, he knew he had gotten everything he deserved after that. But when he'd seen Alexa again, he realized she was still paying the price too. He felt desperately guilty for that-he had hoped she was long over it by then. Instead, he could still see the pain in her eyes. He hoped that now he could help her in some way, by taking care of their child, and doing all he could for her. He wasn't going to let Luisa stop him this time, as she had so many times before, and he had let her. He was planning to do all he could for Savannah. She was his child too.

"I think I remember my school," Savannah said softly, "and maybe the house, or the garden ...and Henry and Travis," her halfbrothers. She had had no contact with them for ten years.

The air outside was mild. It felt more like spring in New York than winter, and she was warm in the heavy sweater on the short ride. In fifteen minutes, they had reached Charleston, and she could see church spires rising in the air. She looked with curiosity and interest at the beautiful old homes they were driving past, painted in ice cream colors, with wrought-iron gates and balconies. The architecture was intricate and ancient, and there were lovely old bridges reaching out to tiny islands. There was a spectacular harbor full of boats, mostly sailboats. Tom pointed out Fort Sumter in the harbor, where the Civil War officially began. It was a beautiful city, and had an aura of history and grace about it. Before she came to hate it, Alexa had always said it was the most breathtaking city in the South, maybe the world. There were tall trees with moss hanging from them, which were still green although it was February. As they approached Mt. Pleasant her father told her they were oak trees.

"I'll take you sightseeing tomorrow," he promised, and took her hand in his, as she smiled bravely and nodded. Everything was so different and new, it felt like she was on another planet.

You could sense that everything here was different, a different culture, a different way of life, a respect for history, and a feeling of another world. She felt as though she was floating in s.p.a.ce, although it was very pretty. The city seemed to be entirely about history and beauty. She knew that southerners were very proud of their history, and years before when she had asked her father about the Civil War, when she was studying it in school, he had corrected her and called it "the War Between the States," and said there was nothing civil about it. Her father was every inch a southerner, by ancestry and birth, and very proud of it. He was a southern gentleman to the core, although her mother had walked away without a word when Savannah had said that to her over the years. Clearly, he hadn't been "gentlemanly" to her, but he had extremely gracious manners. It didn't change what he'd done to her either, but it made him nice to be around.

And the old black man who drove the cab had a heavy, warm accent. Savannah loved to hear it. Whenever she met someone from the South, it always reminded her of her father, and she said her father was from South Carolina. She was proud of it too, although in her style and habits and culture, she was a total New Yorker, like her mother. A Yankee.

The houses her father had pointed out to her in town predated the Civil War, and they b.u.mped along over several cobblestone streets. He said there was a French Quarter he would show her too. There were two rivers, the Cooper and the Ashley. And her father told her that the beaches were terrific, at the Isle of Palms and Sullivan Island. He said she could go there when it got warmer. It was a small city, but there would be a lot for her to do. There were several colleges, coffeehouses where students hung out, and wonderful stores where she could go shopping. And he turned and asked her then if she knew how to drive a car. He was embarra.s.sed not to know that about her but he didn't. There was so much about her that he didn't know-but he was about to learn now. He wondered if, in some ways, this flight from New York would turn out to be a blessing for them both. Her coming to Charleston to be with him would never have happened otherwise. Luisa would never have let it, and hadn't for the last decade. Savannah had been banished. Thinking about it, he was deeply ashamed, and knew he should have been before this. It had made him uncomfortable, but never enough to do anything about it and challenge his wife.

"I have a license," Savannah said cautiously. "I got my learner's permit a year ago, and my license on my birthday, but I don't use it. Mom doesn't have a car-she rents one if we go away for the weekend. It's too much trouble in the city. And you have to be twenty-five to drive a rented car, so I haven't had much practice." She sounded apologetic.

"Charleston is an easy city to drive in, once you know your way around. You can get your practice here. I'll lend you one of ours. We have a couple of old ones." He didn't add "for the servants," but Savannah guessed it. It was nice of him to offer. "You can drive to school." Thinking about it scared her again, worrying about a school full of new faces, and being so different from all of them. She fell silent again as she thought about it. They drove over a beautiful bridge and entered Mt. Pleasant, the elegant neighborhood he lived in, east of the Cooper River. There were mile after mile of impressive mansions, each sitting on several acres of land, and always with the tall oak trees bordering the grounds and lining their driveways. He reminded her again that they were only ten minutes from the beach.

The architecture she was seeing was colonial, with tall white columns, stately entrances, ornate gates in some cases, and long driveways leading up to the houses. This was clearly the fanciest part of town, which didn't surprise her. Nothing looked familiar to her as she gazed out the window, until suddenly the cab slowed, and turned into a driveway. There was a huge expanse of grounds, and the driveway seemed endless. Savannah's eyes widened then as she turned to her father. She had recognized nothing so far, until this, but now she did.

"I remember this driveway." He smiled as she said it, and looked pleased. There had been a small bra.s.s plaque on one of the brick posts at either side of the entrance that said Thousand Oaks. He told her that in the early days, before the war, there were said to be a thousand oaks bordering the property. He had never counted and doubted there were as many now; the land had been reduced to ten acres that made a handsome expanse surrounding and reaching far behind the house. She remembered now that there was a tennis court, and a pool in the back, where she used to swim with her mother and brothers. Tom had put it in for them, amid much excitement, and Savannah had loved it too. She swam like a fish, and still did. She was on the swimming team in school, as well as volleyball. She was going to miss all of it now.

As they drove up the driveway, she could see the house better. It was huge, and absolutely spectacular. It looked like something in a movie. Savannah remembered it now, only it was much much bigger than she had expected. And the gardens surrounding it were exquisite, and would be even more so in spring. Her father smiled at the look of amazement on her face, and was delighted. Maybe she would like it here, and it would console her for the temporary loss of her mother. He hoped so. bigger than she had expected. And the gardens surrounding it were exquisite, and would be even more so in spring. Her father smiled at the look of amazement on her face, and was delighted. Maybe she would like it here, and it would console her for the temporary loss of her mother. He hoped so.

The house was white with tall columns, and the front door was shiny black with an enormous antique bra.s.s knocker in the middle of it. The house had been built in the eighteenth century, and was part of the original plantation. There was nothing left now except the house and the ten acres it sat on. The crumbling old slave quarters were at the back of the property, and were used as sheds to store tools and gardening supplies. It was hard to believe that people had lived in the tiny rooms, as many as twelve or fifteen to a room. His mother liked to say that the Beaumonts had been extremely kind to their slaves, but it wasn't something Tom was proud of. Savannah had asked him about it years before on their visits, and he had always changed the subject. He didn't think slavery was a fitting topic of conversation.

The driver took their bags out of the car, and as though by magic two African-American men appeared, and greeted Tom warmly. One was a college student who worked for them part time, and the other was a dignified older man who looked kind and was well spoken. Jed had worked for Tom's family for years. He had been there in Alexa's day as well, and he had no trouble figuring out who the beautiful young blonde was, although he had had no warning of her arrival. She looked just like her mother, and he smiled widely when he saw her.

"Good evening, Miss Savannah. It's nice to see you again," Jed said, as though her visit had been much antic.i.p.ated and warmly expected. She didn't remember him, but she was touched that he knew her name, and Tom looked gratefully at him. Jed's family had worked for the Beaumonts for generations, all the way back to the days of slavery. Even once freed, they had stayed. Jed felt a strong kinship with the Beaumonts, and their home, and had worked for Tom's mother when he was born. Now he was guardian, caretaker, and occasional waiter and driver, and he was almost like a father to Tom.

Tom introduced them so Savannah would know Jed's name, and he also introduced Forrest, the young student. Both men carried her bags inside, as Tom paid the cab, and Savannah stood close to her father, looking anxious. Tom had told them to put her bags in the blue guest room. It was the largest and most elegant of the four they had, and would make a nice home for her in the coming months, and for the duration of her visit. There was plenty of room for her to giggle with her friends there, once she'd met people at school.

Savannah followed Tom into the house. The ceiling in the hall was immensely high, with a gigantic crystal chandelier that the original owners had brought from France. And there was the kind of sweeping staircase you saw only in movies. Savannah remembered that now too, and running down it with her mother when they were rushing somewhere. Her room had been close to her parents' and down the hall from her brothers'. It had been a pretty pink room, full of sunshine, stuffed animals, and toys, and flowered chintzes. It was in sharp contrast to the room her mother had decorated for her in New York, which was simple, modern, and stark white. She still had that same room now, and had just left it. In its own way, it had represented her mother's icy, barren state of mind when they moved into the apartment in New York. Her life was a blank page, and in some ways, Savannah thought their apartment still looked it. Her mother was warm, but their home wasn't. And Thousand Oaks was filled with a sense of tradition, spectacular antiques, family heirlooms, and grandeur. Alexa had had a wonderful life there, for the seven years it had been her home. And Savannah had been happy too.

Her father led her into the living room, which was equally opulent and full of antiques. There was another beautiful chandelier, and the furniture was upholstered in delicate brocades. There were family portraits and statues, and vases full of flowers. The room had a delicate scent, and Savannah noticed that all the lampshades and the curtains were decorated with silk ta.s.sles. It reminded her of France. Everything was impeccable and in perfect order, but there was no one around. There was no sign of Luisa, or her and Tom's daughter, and the house was deadly silent.

They walked through the enormous dining room, where every wall boasted the portrait of a Confederate general, their ancestors. Tom escorted Savannah into the kitchen, which was large, bright, and modern, and he told her to help herself there whenever she wanted. Meals were prepared by a cook and two a.s.sistants, but there was no sign of them either. The house was deserted.

Tom led her up the stairs then, to her room, which took Savannah's breath away. It was a room for a princess or a queen, and her suitcases already sat on stands, ready for her to unpack them. But Luisa was nowhere in evidence.

Tom left Savannah then, and went to his own room down the hall, and found Luisa there, stretched out under the canopy of their enormous four-poster bed with a damp cloth on her head and her eyes closed. She heard him come into the room and said nothing.

"We're here," he said simply, and didn't approach her. He slept in his study occasionally when she had "sick days," which meant they weren't speaking to each other. Her mother's migraines were how they explained their sleeping arrangements to Daisy, so he didn't "disturb" her. They tried to hide the fact that their marriage was rocky. She was too young to understand it, or so they thought. "Luisa?" he said more loudly, when she didn't answer. He knew she wasn't sleeping. Her jaw was tense, and she was fully dressed. She was wearing a pink Chanel suit, with a ruffled pink blouse, and her pink and black Chanel shoes looked hastily abandoned beside the bed. He suspected she had dived onto it, and grabbed the damp cloth when she heard them coming. She had no intention of welcoming Savannah. As far as Luisa was concerned, she didn't belong here, and she was anything but welcome.

"I have a migraine," she said in a strong voice that suggested otherwise, and in a heavy South Carolinian accent, like his own. His family had been in Charleston for hundreds of years now, and hers had originally arrived in New Orleans, but had come to Charleston before the Civil War as well. Their histories and roots and traditions were deeply woven into the South. It wouldn't have occurred to either of them to live anywhere but here. Her seven-year sojourn in Dallas when she left him had been an agony for her. She thought Texans uncivilized and tacky, but liked the fact that most of them were rich, at least those she met with her husband. But all they had was money, she liked to say, not manners. Luisa was a sn.o.b about all things southern, and as far as she was concerned, Texas was not the South, and it was all new money. It had none of the history and dignity of Charleston.

"I'd like you to come and say h.e.l.lo to Savannah," he said firmly, offering no sympathy for her headache, which he did not believe for an instant. "She's in the Blue Room."

"Get her out of it immediately," Luisa said with her eyes closed. "That room is for important people who come to visit us, not a child. Put her in one of the rooms upstairs. That's where I want her." She said all of it with her eyes closed, and moving no part of her but her mouth. The room she was talking about was a maid's room in the attic, and Tom seethed inwardly at what she'd said, but wasn't surprised. Luisa had declared war on him and Savannah on the phone that morning.

"She'll stay in the Blue Room," he said firmly. "Where's Daisy?"

"Asleep." He glanced at his watch. It was nine-thirty.

"At this hour? What did you do? Drug her? She doesn't go to bed till ten."

"She was tired," Luisa said, and finally opened her eyes, and looked at him, but made no move to get up.

"What did you tell her?" he asked, his own jaw tensing now. And he knew that this was just the beginning. He was well aware of what Luisa was capable of. Her behavior was appalling, whenever she chose. He felt sorry for Savannah. He was used to Luisa's vendettas and venomous ways. Savannah surely wasn't, and had no idea what she was in for. He had brought her here anyway, he wanted her here, to keep her safe from the dangers she was facing in New York. He was going to do everything he could to protect her, as best he could. But Luisa was a loose cannon, and he knew it.

"About what?" Luisa stared at him blankly, in response to his question about what she had told Daisy.

"You know what I'm asking you. What did you tell Daisy about Savannah?" He studied his wife. She was as blond as Savannah and Alexa, but in her case it wasn't real and came out of a bottle. She wore her hair in the same flip to her shoulders she had worn since she was sixteen, and went to the hairdresser three times a week to maintain it, with a staggering amount of hairspray. She was impeccably groomed, fussy in her style of dress, wore too much makeup for his taste, and a lot of jewelry, some of which she had inherited from her mother, and the rest he and her last husband had paid for.

"I told her you had a youthful indiscretion, and Savannah was the result, and we've never wanted to tell her." He looked horrified at the suggestion that Savannah was an illegitimate daughter who had suddenly turned up, if that was what she had told Daisy.

"Did you say I was married to her mother?"

"I said that we didn't need to talk about it, and preferred not to, and Savannah will be staying for as short a time as possible, because her mother is in trouble."

"For G.o.d's sake, Luisa, you make it sound like her mother is in rehab, or jail." He was appalled, but not surprised.

"Daisy is too young to know that criminals are threatening Savannah's life. It would traumatize her forever." So would the lies her mother told her, Tom knew only too well. But it was hard to stop them, or the spin she put on every story, in her favor. Luisa was the worst of what people said about southern women, that they were hypocritical and dishonest and covered it with false sweetness and charm. There were lots of other southerners, men and women, who didn't use good manners as a cover-up for lies and were sincere. Luisa was not one of them, and always had an ulterior motive, a plot, or a plan. Her plan now was to make Savannah's life as miserable as possible, and Tom's.

"I want you to come and say h.e.l.lo to Savannah," he repeated with an unfamiliarly hard tone in his voice. Luisa didn't like it at all. She sat up on the bed, swung her legs down, and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Don't try to drag me into this. I don't want her here."

"That's clear. But she is here, for extremely important reasons. All I want is for you to be polite."

"I'll be civil to her when I see her. Don't expect more from me than that." He nodded and left the room. It was obvious that Luisa was not going to meet Savannah that night. He gave up the fight, and went back to her room by himself. He wanted to stop and see Daisy, but he went back to Savannah first.

"Luisa isn't feeling well, she's in bed," he said simply, and Savannah saw through it, but didn't comment. She was relieved herself not to meet her that night. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I'm fine, Daddy. Thank you. I'm not hungry, I'll just unpack." He nodded and went to his study, to look at his mail. He was so annoyed at Luisa that he decided not to visit Daisy after all. He was not in a good mood, and decided to sleep in his study that night. He had no desire whatsoever to spend the night fighting with his wife. There was time enough for that tomorrow, and for the next three months until after the trial. He closed his door softly, and in her own room, Savannah did the same.

She sat down in the large, comfortable chair and looked around the room. Everything was pale blue silk and satin. There were heavy curtains pulled back with blue ta.s.sels, a beautiful antique dressing table and mirror, and a little sitting area with a bookcase and two small couches. The room was warmly lit and elegantly decorated. It was much more elaborate than anything she was used to, and there was a large four-poster bed hung with heavy silk curtains as well. It was certainly a lovely room, even if it didn't feel like home. She had known that her father lived well, but hadn't realized that he lived in such grandeur. She had been taken aback by it when they walked in, and still felt daunted by it now. It didn't feel like a home where you could walk around in jeans and bare feet, or an old flannel nightie with holes in it. It was a house where you got dressed up and sat up straight on silk chairs and never relaxed or let your hair down. It was hard to imagine living here and feeling at ease. Even harder to imagine a child living here, and she had seen no sign of one yet. Like her mother, her ten-year-old half-sister was nowhere to be seen when they arrived, and the house was deadly quiet, as Savannah stared at her bags and tried to get up the courage to unpack. Instead she took out her cell phone and called her mother. It was ten o'clock, and there was no time difference in New York. She knew her mother would still be up, and was surprised to realize she'd been asleep. Alexa had fallen into a deep sleep after crying for hours but didn't tell Savannah that.

"How is it, sweetheart?" Alexa asked her quickly, and Savannah sighed.

"Strange. The house is amazing, and Daddy's been very nice. I'm in some big fancy guest room all done up in blue." Alexa knew it well, as it had been called the Blue Room in her day too, and she had always stayed there when she came to visit before they were married. And now Savannah was in it. Alexa could visualize it perfectly. "It just seems so fancy and uptight, like a museum." And it felt so far from home, even if she had lived there as a child.

"There's a lot of history in that house. Your father is very proud of it. Your grandmother lives in an even bigger house nearby, or she used to. It's an old plantation that her grandfather bought when he got married." It was too much for Savannah to absorb. She missed her mother and her familiar room, and her life in the city. It was all she cared about now, not the elegance and history of the South.

"I miss you, Mom," Savannah said sadly. "A lot." She was fighting not to cry, and so was Alexa.

"Me too, sweetheart. You won't be there long, I promise. And I'll come down as soon as I can." She wasn't looking forward to it, but she would have gone to h.e.l.l and back to see her daughter. And as far as she was concerned, Charleston and all she'd lived through there at the end was h.e.l.l. "How was Luisa?" Alexa held her breath as she asked. She knew what she was capable of, and hated having Savannah in the front lines exposed to it.

"I didn't see her. Daddy said she had a headache and had gone to bed." Alexa held her tongue and didn't comment. "I didn't see Daisy either. She had gone to bed too. Everything seems to roll up early here," contrary to New York, where the city was alive all night. "Daddy says he'll give me a car to drive."

"Be careful," her mother warned her. "You don't have a lot of experience yet." But the city was small and the traffic light. It was nice of Tom to give her a car. It would give her some freedom, particularly once she started school. "I can't wait to see you," she said sadly, wishing she were there with her.

"Me too. I guess I'd better unpack. We're going sightseeing tomorrow."

"It's another world there. You'll see. The Confederacy is still alive and well. For them the 'War Between the States' never ended. They still hate us and hang on to every shred of their history. They don't trust anyone but southerners. But there are a lot of wonderful things about it too, and Charleston is a beautiful place. I loved it when I lived there, and I would have stayed forever if...well, you know the rest. I think you'll like it. It has everything, beauty, history, gorgeous architecture, lovely beaches, nice weather, friendly people. It's hard to beat." It was easy to tell that she had once loved it no matter how she felt about it now.

"I just want to be home with you," Savannah said sadly. The scenic and historical aspects of Charleston didn't interest her at all, or even the school. She wanted to be with her old friends in New York to finish senior year, and now she couldn't because of a bunch of stupid letters written by some freak. It wasn't fair. "I guess I'd better organize my stuff. Did you pack my music?"

"Of course." Alexa was glad she had thought to do it.

There was no sign of a stereo in the room, but her mother said she had packed her Discman and iPod too. She was all set. And she wouldn't disturb anyone, which seemed like a good thing.

They ended the call, and Savannah slowly unzipped her bags and started hanging her clothes. It was all there, all her favorite clothes, and her mother's. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the two pink sweaters, her mother's brand-new favorite black high heels, and a leopard sweater she hadn't asked for but loved, also new. She saw the two teddy bears and set them on the bed with a smile and was glad to see them for the first time in years. They looked like old friends, her only ones here for now. And she set her stack of CDs on the dresser with the Discman and iPod, and as she turned around to go back to the suitcase for more, she sensed someone in the room, and almost jumped a foot when she saw a little girl in a nightgown standing next to the bed and staring at her. She had long blond hair too and huge green eyes.

"Hi" was all she said. She had a serious expression, and the nightgown had bows and teddy bears all over it. She looked like a little doll. "I know who you are," she said solemnly.

"h.e.l.lo," Savannah said softly, still startled by her, but not wanting to frighten her away. "We're sisters." It felt odd to say it.

"I didn't know about you till today. My mom told me. She said my dad was married to your mom a long time ago, for a few months, or something like that, when you were born."

"More like seven years," Savannah said, defending her history and her turf, and feeling more like ten than seventeen herself.

"My mom tells lies," Daisy said simply. It was a tough thing for a ten-year-old to say about her own mother, but it was true. "She does it a lot. She never told me about you. She said Daddy was embarra.s.sed to tell me about you, so he never did. And you're here now because your mother is in trouble with the law." It was exactly what Luisa had said, and Savannah laughed out loud. It was an outrageous thing to say, and gave her a preview of who her stepmother was. "Is she in jail?"

"No." Savannah was still laughing as she walked over to the four-poster and sat down, and patted a s.p.a.ce next to her for Daisy to hop up beside her, which she did. "My mom's a prosecutor, and she's trying to put someone in jail, a very bad person."

"Is prosecutor a bad word?" Daisy looked worried, and Savannah laughed again. She knew what Daisy thought it was, and it wouldn't have surprised Savannah now if Luisa said she was that too.